She glances between my cum-stained cock and my backup gun tucked around my ankle. “Too many guns.”
I laugh under my breath and take my ankle holster off. “How about now?”
Her eyes zero in on my piercings, and her tongue darts and swipes across her lips. “Perfection.”
She crawls out of the bed and wraps her hand around my shaft. I suck in a long hiss. Birdie Abel, my favorite author, my idol, no fuck that, Reagan Fletcher, my forbidden teacher, my unholy fantasy, has her fingers wrapped around my cock while the taste of her cum is carved inside my mouth.
Her palm opens, and she glances up at me before she spits on it.
“Oh, fuck me.” My cock hardens even more.
She rubs her wet saliva on the crown and then she bends her head and licks my own cum off.
I fight every urge to fist her hair and stuff her mouth with my cock. I don’t want her mouth, not now. I’m desperate to be inside her.
“I need to fuck you, Birdie.” My eyes squeeze as I run my fingers through my hair. “But I won’t until you say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say you want my cock inside you.”
“You still want me to beg, Tristan.” She straightens and strips down naked. “How is that for begging?” She presses her body lush against mine. “How’s that for saying I want you? I want you inside me, Tristan. Fuck, I need you.”
That’s it. That’s all I can take.
I lay her back on the bed and take a mental photo of her gorgeous body, her abundant curves I will worship until the day I die…her scars. Like me, she has plenty of them. A constantreminder of how we belong together. Every mark of pain is a dagger to my heart and fuel to my rage. And yet they make her even more stunning. I fill my hands with her tits, her ass, her thighs, her waist, taste every part until she’s writhing again.
But when I straddle her, she shakes her head.
“What? Don’t tell me you changed your mind. Are you worried about Abel?” She’s cheating on her motherfucking blackmailing husband with me. “No one will ever find out. I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Blake anymore. He’s a dead man walking one way or another. If anything, I want him to know. I want him to see how a real man fucks a woman like me.”
“That’s…so hot.” The idea of sending Abel a video of how I fuck his wife… “Why do you want me to stop then?”
“Do you have a condom?”
I grind out a curse. “I’m clean. I swear.”
“I’m clean, too. Since the hospital, I haven’t let him touch me. Thank God. Who knows who he’s been sinking his disgusting dick in other than Gia? But…you know this isn’t just about being clean.”
“I…”I wanna say the right thing because there’s no way in hell I’m inside you with a barrier. Nothing comes between you and me. And I’d love nothing more than to fill you up with my cum, over and over, until I claim your womb, too.But if I say that, she’ll freak out. She’s almost thirty-five and has been married for seven years. There must be a reason she doesn’t want children or she would have had them by now. “I… Are you… I can pull out.”I won’t.
She giggles. “Relax. I’m messing with you. I… I can’t get pregnant.”
“You’re so mean.” I pinch her nipple and bite the other until she yelps. “That’s what you get for being so naughty.”
She laughs again, but it doesn’t touch her eyes.
“Wait, when you say can’t…”
Something sinister crosses her face for a split second. It vanishes as she rises to her knees and pushes me on the bed. “I’m on the pill, Tristan. You’re safe.” She straddles me, her thighs locking me in. “Now, enough talking.”
She holds my cock, gives it a rub before she guides it into her entrance.
My eyes roll back as the scalding wetness coats me, as she pushes her hips slowly all the way down on me, taking every inch of my cock, and her lips part with a strained moan.
“Reagan.” Her name tears through me, a prayer I’ve never believed in until now. I force my eyes open to look at her, fragments of every fantasy I’ve had of her shattering, collapsing, and reforming into something so very real. “I can’t believe I get to see you like this.”